Gateways: To the Fanciful Truths
by xdreamernumbuhfour
Summary: When Leonhardt Oz arrives at Ouran, his mysterious relationship with heiress Leonore Kimiya turns heads and raises a few questions. Like why does Kim disappear when Oz is in the spotlight? And just what is Oz's purpose at the school? When his strange interest in Mori is noticed, a few people can't help but be uneasy, especially when strange, dangerous things begin happen around Oz.
1. Prolouge

_"You are to be proud of your enemy; then, the success of your enemy is your success also."_ \- Nietzsche

* * *

**Prologue**

"Yah, Kimiya Leonore! Are you out of your mind?!"

The girl in question, more commonly known as Kim stared back at her friend with an unimpressed look.

"There are times when I wonder about that myself." Kim murmured, running her fingers through a lock of her long hair. "But this is something I need to do."

"You don't **_need_** to do anything!" Hunter, Kim's frantic friend and questioner of sanity, cried in protest, attempting to wrench herself out of her boyfriend's grasp.

Jae-Hwa, however, had always understood Kim better than most others and kept his firm hold on Hunter.

"Calm down, jagiya." he said firmly. "Kim's set her mind to it. Let her do as she pleases. There's no talking her out of it."

"He's right." A new voice huffed, the owner of it looking remarkably like Kim. Which made sense considering that he was her brother. "I've known her for her entire life. She's going to go through with it. Besides, Minki-ah and Akane-san have finished with the paperwork already."

"Thanks, Ken." Kim smiled weakly, beckoning the older Leonore closer. "Can — can you do this for me? I don't trust my hands."

Ken smiled briefly. "Of course."

With steady hands, he took the scissors from his little sister, taking her hair into his grasp, and slicing the silky strands away. Long tendrils of chestnut waves floated to the floor.

Kim's breath caught for a moment, regretful of the actions, but it had to be done.

Going to Japan was her only option. Going to Ouran was not a choice.

She had to go. She had to meet him.

Morinozuka Takashi.

For her own sake.

For her best friend's.


	2. Don't Hate Me

The Tokyo Dome, otherwise known as the Big Egg, greeted the inhabitants of apartment 6B as the curtains were pulled back to allow the dawn in, soft light filtering in as the inhabitants shuffled their way around in a mild state of drowsiness.

Or rather, inhabitant, seeing as the only person there was a young man with tousled blond hair and a solemn stare as he looked out over Bunkyō, green eyes raking over the city that was slowly becoming more familiar to him — and yet, still so strange.

The young man, Oz, was already dressed for the day, despite the early hour and collected his things silently, no one in the apartment to converse with as he got ready for his day. A heavy school bag found its way to his shoulder as he headed for the door, pausing for a moment to exchange his slippers for shoes.

After swiftly locking the door and casting a mildly interested look at Tokyo Dome City, revealed beautifully by the glass wall of the long hallway, Oz headed for the elevator, pulling his phone from his pocket as he walked. Its shrill ringtone penetrated the air in notice of an incoming call.

"Hello?" He murmured quietly as he answered the phone. "Oh, hey. It's you... Yeah, I'm on my way now. Don't worry — I've got this. Our plan will work, I swear." Oz smirked. "We're already on Phase One. I'll call you later with details. Yeah, bye."

The phone found its way back into his pocket, the smirk on Oz's face giving the air an ominous feeling when paired with the strange conversation he had just had, the one side that had been heard filling the elevator with promises of greater things to come.

* * *

"'Lineage counts first; wealth a close second.'" Oz scoffed as he read the school's motto on his class schedule. "Ridiculous."

Indeed it was, and not only the school's motto fit that term. From its name to its pink and lavender color scheme that Oz took to represent some sort of noble qualities and whatnot, Ouran Academy grated on his nerves, the few people he had met so far naive enough to make him feel guilty for wanting to swear in disbelief and the placement of his class making him want to swear even louder and destroy their ridiculous innocence.

The tour guide next to him didn't seem to hear his last remark about the school or see the disgust on his face, and instead just gasped in wonder. "Oh wow! You've already memorized the school motto! That's great, Leonhardt-san!"

Oz's eye twitched as he refrained from calling the girl out on her stupidity as the damn thing was practically plastered over the paper he held – the same fucking one she had a copy of.

Instead the blond hummed an uninterested reply, nonverbal because he was at least trying to regulate himself, and followed the peppy girl inside, trying not to hate her too much.

He was failing spectacularly.

As his attention or interest wasn't really required for the introduction past "Hello, it's great to have you and your money here have a seat so I don't have to trip over you during my boring ass lectures" that the teacher gave, Oz ignored it all until he was directed to his seat and finally ridden of that damn tour guide.

Letting out a sigh of relief as he collapsed into his chair and the girl left, Oz realized miserably that he had yet another problem to deal with.

Unlike the majority of the class which ignored him, which was mostly comprised of rough and tough looking boys with attitude problems like his own, Oz became the sole source of interest for the pair of students in front of him.

The first was a girl, the only occupant of the room in something other than a suit (or uniform) and tie, with long dark hair and equally dark eyes that were as empty and blank as a corpse's. Oz liked her better than the tour guide at least.

The second was a boy, the toughest of them all by the looks of it. With bright red hair that Oz was certain came from a bottle of chemicals and a sharp glare, the boy's blatant staring made Oz bristle indignantly without much reason.

"It's not polite to stare." The blond hissed irritably, eyes narrowing dangerously.

A brief flash of hurt broke the red head's glare and made Oz feel almost guilty for being so harsh on someone who was obviously not as tough as he looked. The other boy's face twisted into what could have been easily mistaken as anger, causing ninety percent of the class to flinch and freeze in fear, — most probably expecting Oz to get his head knocked off his shoulders — but Oz could only wince internally when he recognized the expression as one of someone who had just had their feelings hurt.

Well, shit.

After all, he only actively tried to be an asshole in the safety of his head. Guilt trips were too much of a bitch to handle.

The girl, on the other hand, took his remark with greater grace, the blank expression on her face never shifting for a second and her dead stare revealing nothing as she looked on for a moment longer before returning to gaze at the front.

Oz decided he liked her better than both the tour guide and the wimpy pit bull before him.

Later he discovered that Kanazuki Reiko and Kasanoda Ritsu (the girl and boy respectively) were known as the scariest kids in Class 1D and Oz was now at the top of their shit lists (well, maybe not Kanazuki's but most likely).

"Great," Oz scoffed under his breath. "Made enemies with a witch and an overly sensitive yakuza brat. Maybe tomorrow I'll offend a serial killer."

* * *

When the bell rang to announce lunch, Oz abandoned his bags and sprinted out the door, just barely managing to avoid his ditzy tour guide from earlier. The girl in question looked utterly confused by his absence but didn't stick around Class 1-D long enough to get any answers from her year-mates, the intimidation of the yakuza heirs too much for her delicate breeding to handle. At least, that's how Oz viewed it and he scoffed quietly as he ducked into an abandoned classroom to wait for the halls to empty.

However, the classroom (1-A, the sign above the door told him) wasn't quite as abandoned as he thought, a few stragglers mingling around their desks as they chatted idly while they gathered their things, and one extremely out of place figure pulling out a homemade lunch, seemingly intent on eating at their desk. Oz arched an eyebrow at the sight. _How interesting._

Feeling their eyes on him, the stranger lifted his eyes to stare back at Oz steadily, dark brown gazing into olive green. Having been caught, Oz dipped his head politely in greeting.

"Forgive me for staring... but you don't exactly look like the rest of the kids here." That was an understatement. Both Oz and the other first year stood out like sore thumbs, the stranger dressed in a dark sweater and slacks of low quality and Oz in his designer jeans, T-shirt and too many rings and earrings to be considered a respectable company heir – not that he was one. Oz's fortune was created with his own two hands and he would represent himself however the hell he saw fit. However, at least he looked the part of a rich, young entrepreneur. The stranger practically radiated a lack of wealth in a school for the rich.

A scholarship student, Oz decided, nodding his head at the thought. The stranger confirmed his suspicions a moment later.

"I'm a scholarship student here," he said quietly, adjusting his thick-framed glasses as he spoke. "The uniform is a bit... over-priced so I dressed as closely to it as I could."

Oz smirked, amused by the way the scholarship student considered the uniform over priced rather than simply expensive. It was an interesting way as looking at the situation, he supposed, though with all the fancy adornments the school had it would only seem sensible to give the scholarship student a uniform for their schooling along with the classes. Perhaps it was a way to make the difference in class more prominent, though Oz doubted that it was the headmaster's doing, considering the friendly and buoyant impression the man had made when he and Oz met briefly during the enrollment process.

"I'm not judging you or anything," Oz hummed, pulling out a nearby chair and spinning it around so he could sit more comfortably. "In my opinion, the uniform is horrendous, thus explaining my refusal to wear it. So you're a scholarship student? You must be very smart then - I had trouble with the entrance exams myself. I couldn't begin to imagine all the stuff you had to know to get a scholarship for this place. My name is Leonhardt Oz."

"Fujioka Haruhi," the now named stranger returned, dipping his head in greeting. Oz narrowed his eyes. When he looked further, Fujioka didn't look so boyish behind those bulky glasses, though the short hair and shapeless sweater did through off his perception at first glance. "It's nice to meet... someone who isn't so ditzy as the rest of this school."

Oz grinned wryly. "I think it's the breeding. The majority of the population seem to think that saying the first thing that comes to mind is something they can get away with. I'm glad I didn't have to go through any of that sort of thing growing up."

Fujioka tilted her head to the side, brow furrowing as she looked closer at him. "Leonhardt... You're name sounds rather familiar, Leonhardt-san."

"I suppose that it might. I've been getting a lot of attention with the media lately, particularly in the fashion circles. I'm a clothing designer. However, rather than squandering all that money I've decided to invest some of it and use the rest towards learning how to actually fit into this business world. After all, it'll be hard to actually hang on to what I have if I don't have a clue as to what I'm doing." Oz explained lightly, ruffling his blond bangs.

Fujioka nodded thoughtfully. "Very sensible of you."

Oz smiled. "Thank you. If you don't mind, Fujioka-san, I'd like to hide out in here for the rest of lunch. As it is, I'm trying to avoid my tour guide and prevent myself from saying anything impolite out of frustration. There's only so much airheadedness I can take in one day."

Fujioka shrugged. "It's not as if this is my classroom. If the teacher doesn't kick you out I'm certain you're free to come and go as you please. Besides, it might be nice having someone with more brains than money to have an actual conversation with."

Oz laughed lightly at the thought, the pair falling into a comfortable silence as Fujioka ate her lunch and Oz played with his phone, occasionally sipping at the soda he'd managed to snag from his bag before fleeing his desk.

Twenty minutes into lunch, Oz lifted his head to frown at the clock above the whiteboard. In his old school, they had only been allowed about twenty minutes to eat their lunch and mingle before the bell rang to signal their return to class. It was unusual for their lunch break to last any longer unless it was exam time, meaning that the bells would be deactivated for the day as to avoid interrupting the concentration of those testing (however, those students who tested through lunch were just plain out of luck unless their teachers decided to feed them as a reward – and, given the average salary of a school teacher, it was unlikely).

"Fujioka-san," the blond frowned, calling for his new acquaintance's attention. "Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but shouldn't everyone be back by now?"

Fujioka looked mildly surprised by the question. "No? At my old schools, lunch usually lasted for about forty minutes. At least, that's how I remember it. Though, it is a little weird that no one else is eating lunch in here."

"I suppose they're in the cafeteria," Oz mused, toying with the top of his soda bottle. "It seemed pretty nice during the tour I was given this morning, but I figured that there would be a lot of people in there so I avoided it today. But a forty minute lunch break? That's twice as long as the one my old school had!"

Fujioka raised her eyebrows in acknowledgment, not seeming too interested in carrying on the conversation. Oz didn't blame her – a lunch break didn't make an exciting topic. "Strange."

The young man hummed in agreement, capping his bottle and standing. "I'm going to head back to my own class now, Fujioka-san. It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Leonhardt-san," the girl said, dipping her head in a goodbye.

Oz left Class 1-A without any fanfare, reveling in the empty and quiet hallways as he wandered along back to where he came from, just down the hall in Class 1-D – the lowest standard of the first years. At least, for a moment all was quiet and calm. Just a meter from the door, noise exploded around the corner of the hall, just out of sight and Oz tensed, trying to discretely hurry his pace.

It was, however, pointless as he had just managed to get his fingers around the doorknob before a large crowd of girls surged forward, following a pair of tall, auburn haired twins. Something sour and unpleasant settled itself in Oz's chest and he stood up a bit straighter as the twins noticed him, their amber-brown eyes narrowing as they locked on his green ones. The girls accompanying the twins shifted anxiously at the tense standoff.

"Hitachiin," Oz said finally, voice and stare as flat as the red heads before him.

"Leonhardt," the twins greeted, their voices ringing out in disturbing unison, an identical frown beginning to form on their faces.

"Hikaru-kun? Kaoru-kun?" one of the girls asked hesitantly. "Are you friends with... Leonhardt-san?" She finished, looking to Oz, unsure if her pronunciation was right. The blond gave her a brief nod of assurance.

"We're not friends," the twins said flatly.

"I believe you could call us rivals," Oz finished with a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. "In the fashion world, that is."

The girls looked mildly impressed by the idea of it, gazing at Oz and his style with admiring eyes. Despite their devotion to their precious twins, they couldn't help but admit that the foreigner made a striking picture – a sort of bad boy in the world of the civilized.

"Tch, whatever." one of the twins scoffed and, if Oz's memory served him correctly, it was the elder of the two, Hikaru Hitachiin.

The other twin, Kaoru Hitachiin, looked similarly unimpressed with Oz and opened his mouth to say something more but Oz cut him off by opening the classroom door in his face, offering the crowd of girls a polite nod before sauntering in to his desk. A loud squeal sounded from the hallway as the door closed behind him and Oz slumped tiredly into his desk.

Having a bunch of girls freak out on him was not in his life plan. If only he didn't have an obsession with getting the upper hand on people.

On the other side of the classroom door, Hitachiin Hikaru took a deep breath through gritted teeth, his glare threatening to bore holes through the wall that separated him and that dammed Leonhardt Oz, the cocky upstart. At his side, Kaoru copied his twin's posture, visibly as irritated but slightly amused where Hikaru wasn't. Unlike his brother, Kaoru could find a shred of admiration for one with such confidence.

A few months ago the name Leonhardt Oz wouldn't even ring a bell in his memory. Then, as suddenly as an explosion, the other boy's name was everywhere, critics calling him a young genius as they rushed to sing his praises – and that of the one who found him, supposed childhood friend, Leonore Kimiya, the young heiress of the Lion Light Corporation which had fingers in just about every pie imaginable. However, despite the rumors of their close relationship (and hints of even romance) no one had ever managed to catch a glimpse of the pair together, as if once simply ceased to exist when the other took the stage.

The very concept made heads turn, Kaoru's included, as an interest in what could be driving such an odd interaction.

The red head's golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the door, unconsciously matching his twin's irate glare.

_Leonhardt Oz... there's something very strange about you._

* * *

**A/N: Yo, everybody! Good to see you! How many of you are here from The Red Fate and Tell-Tale Hearts readership?! Because it's wonderful to see you here! Granted, I don't think this one will be half as long as The Red Fate ended up being but I've really enjoyed writing the outline and plot for this one. I think you'll all be surprised to, at the end of it all. Y'know, unless ya'll can see the future or have access to the special secret notebook where I keep all this crap written down.**

**SBS!**

**(for any new readers, this is where I thank you all for being so wonderful and reply to your reviews)**

**Thanks for Favoriting and Alerting: **Angelic Fluffle, LittleRedRWBY, Luvrainluv, Nameless-dono, and scarletlovecharlie!

LittleRedRWBY: **Thanks!**

scarletlovecharlie: **Thank you! Of course!**


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